


Nadir

by RoseCathy



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Established Relationship, Ficlet Collection, Kinky, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 06:13:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2721734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseCathy/pseuds/RoseCathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the <a href="http://starbuggers.livejournal.com/317.html">Red Dwarf Kink Meme</a> on LiveJournal.<br/>Prompt (originally from a porn battle): “Low Lister/Low Rimmer, holo-whip, pain, rough, submit, leather, eyeliner, lipstick, hat, chemicals, taste, music, differences”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nadir

**Author's Note:**

> Although this does not contain consent issues per se, please keep in mind that the characters are the worst versions of themselves and therefore engage in behaviour that would be highly objectionable in real life.
> 
> Thanks to [Lempo Soi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemposoi/pseuds/Lempo%20Soi) and [Ilthit](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilthit/pseuds/Ilthit) for inspirations [one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/132399) and [two](http://archiveofourown.org/works/629109), respectively.

**Holo-whip**

The bluish tail grazed Lister’s cheek. The feeling was little more than a tickle, but he still shivered and his breath still caught - and it came again, and again, and he threw his head back and let ecstasy take him -

“Look at me.”

The holo-whip snapped loudly across his disobedient face.

“I said _look at me_.”

 _No_. The last traces of consideration in the strokes were replaced by brutality. Lister laughed in sheer delight.

 

**Pain**

It came as something of a surprise that the leather didn’t hurt any more than the holo-whip did, Lister claimed, sitting back on his haunches and leering up and down Rimmer’s new hard-light form yet again.

Rimmer barked at him to _shut up_. He knew before he even opened his mouth what Lister’s response would be: _Make me._ The real question was how.

He knew he’d found his answer when he heard a wet gurgle, immediately followed by an eager moan and sharp fingernails carving parallel smarting paths down his thighs.

 

**Rough**

Lister counted the fresh green bruises down his arm. Five. Sleeping with Rimmer — in both senses — without coming to blows, be it over blanket-hogging, cock-teasing, or thumb-chewing, was proving to be impossible. No matter. He’d make Rimmer pay tonight for his annoying high-pitched snores.

 

**Submit**

Previously, Rimmer had been limited to what he could do with the holo-whip, which was quite a lot, but never enough. Not when Lister cackled at the futile swipes of his hand.

Now — oh, _now_ — he could do anything he wanted. Instead of ordering Lister to stop talking or to tie himself to the chair, he could personally search the long-neglected wardrobe for his old JMC ties. The way Lister’s uncovered eye lit up when grubby beige fabric made its way between his teeth and around his head…

 

**Leather**

As usual, Lister ransacked the shops for more leather. This time, though, he was shopping for two.

Several racks full of irrelevant items crashed to the floor as he shoved them aside to get to the corset. He ran a hand over the fabric (smooth and cold), tested the steel boning (inflexible). Perfect. He wasn’t studious by nature, but he planned to study these buckles and hooks and laces very carefully on his way back. He would bet Rimmer a week’s worth of blowjobs that he could rip it off in 20 seconds, and he would win.

 

**Eyeliner**

Holly’s experiments on Rimmer’s appearance had fantastic comedic value. On the day she gave him dark winged eyes, Rimmer hissed and spat at the monitor while Lister sniggered approvingly.

He sniggered even more when he caught Rimmer preening in front of the mirror a few hours later. He thought for a moment about reaching up to push Rimmer’s hand away and smear the eyeliner with his own grimy fingers, but then he remembered — he couldn’t.

The best he could do was stroke himself to mental images of both the act and the retribution that would have ensued. He growled and humped his pleasure into his mattress; he knew Rimmer was awake and listening to everything.

 

**Lipstick**

Cat had stolen from their lipstick stash yet again. For the third time that week, Lister found himself dodging overgrown fangs and fingernails just to get the Fresh Bloodstain back. It was worth it for the moment he forced Rimmer’s head into position (pity he kept his hair so short) and applied it lovingly over his lips, then transferred it elsewhere.

  
 **Hat**

After he got his hard-light drive, Rimmer did something he’d been itching to do for ages: He snatched the hat off Lister’s head and threw it across the room.

On his way to retrieve the hat, Lister deliberately pushed a shoulder into Rimmer’s chest and threw him against the bunks. The loud _crack_ of Rimmer’s head hitting the frame made him giggle. He wasn’t sure if he believed the “indestructible” claim; he would need to test it thoroughly, starting with a few slaps and working his way up to pushing that hard-light body down with his fists - before he could finish the thought, Rimmer yanked him backwards by the collar of his jacket and tossed him into the lower bunk.

He _was_ strong now, Lister had to give him that. The living Rimmer of three million years ago couldn’t have pinned his arms so firmly. He decided to play along for a bit, let Rimmer think he’d rendered him helpless and was making him moan like this…oh… _this_.

 

**Chemicals**

Rimmer didn’t notice at first that Lister had tipped cigarette ashes into the absinthe. He didn’t appreciate it.

Drunk with both power and liquor, Lister taunted him, then pretended to ignore him until threats began to spill from his mouth like green-tinted vomit. _Yes,_ he groaned at a particularly exciting one. Tomorrow, when they’d recovered sufficiently to get it up, he’d make Rimmer carry it out to the letter.

 

**Taste**

Rimmer snarled as red-stained fingers inched underneath his stockings and set fire to his skin. When they started to crawl up and inward, he hastily dislodged them and took them in his mouth, one by one, two by two. Then he bit down. The hot sauce _stung,_ but the alternative would have been much worse.

 

**Music**

In Lister’s opinion, the cheery smeg that Rimmer called music was a hundred times worse than his own favourite lyrics about spiked bludgeons and rivers of blood. One day, he took a fire-axe to some of the records. Rimmer retaliated by chasing him around their room, brandishing a pipe that had been wrenched from the space bike.

Lister won the battle. However, since it ended with him being pressed up against the lockers and fucked to exhaustion, he didn’t mind calling it a draw.

 

**Differences**

The other him’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. Why was that? The spider had been swallowed long ago; he was having a brief rest while they discussed his next torment. Lister shrugged and turned back to Rimmer, who gave his face another lick. The soft-light tongue buzzed and tingled like the end of the holo-whip; Holly must have been messing about with the projection again.

He wondered how the boring versions of themselves simulated sex. This Lister was obviously unfamiliar with Rimmer’s devices and accessories. How did they get on without those? 

 


End file.
